


Après Ski

by TurboToast



Series: Widowtracer Holiday Series [4]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Food, Meet-Cute, Snowboarding, Winter Olympics, biathlon - Freeform, hand holding, that's not how the olympics work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 04:11:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17134706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TurboToast/pseuds/TurboToast
Summary: Lena Oxton gets to participate in the Winter Olympics in Canada and decides to enjoy it to the fullest, checking out sports she normally doesn't get to see. That's when she spots a mysterious biathlete, and her Olympic experience takes a turn she couldn't have anticipated.





	Après Ski

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aka0kami](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aka0kami/gifts).



A mug of hot chocolate securely held in both gloved hands, Lena made her way to the spectator stands, careful not to spill anything. Cowbells rang in her ears and air horns blared through the arena, occasionally peppered by muffled gunshots, which were commented with either cheering or booing.  
  
Lena didn't really get biathlon. There was probably a lot of skill and training involved, but to her, sports had to be fun, and she couldn't really see the fun in skiing around in a circle and then shooting at a sign. The masses of spectators seemed to disagree. They oohed and aahed with every shot the athletes took. Some even had scorecards for their favorites.  
  
“The elusive Amélie Lacroix is now setting up for shooting,” the announcer explained over the PA system. “Nobody’s been able to get an interview with her yet, and I don’t know if it’s because the journalists are afraid of such precision! Three of the five targets are down, will she get the other— yes she will! We’re seeing truly remarkable things from the Frenchwoman. She might not be the fastest skier of the field, but she hasn’t missed a single target…”  
  
Lena stopped listening and took a sip of her hot chocolate, leaning against the grandstand. A group of the biathletes skied past, pushing forward with long, sweeping strokes. For how long they were supposed to ski, they went up the hill surprisingly quickly.  
  
Lena let out a sigh and looked down the track to see if someone else was coming — right at a pair of golden goggles and a bright pink ski suit. She couldn’t see the eyes behind the tinted glasses, but the athlete’s icy stare sent shivers down her spine. A long, braided black ponytail swung from side to side, almost got caught on the rifle hanging from the athlete’s shoulders.  
  
After she went by, Lena caught herself looking after her. That must’ve been that Amélie Lacroix. There was something about her that piqued her interest, so Lena decided she’d stay here for a while. Going back to the Olympic village wasn’t that appealing — the snowboarding team’s trainer O’Deorain was in a terrible mood, and Lena calling her ‘Aunt Moira’ didn’t help one bit.  
  
It didn’t take long for Amélie to come back around on the other side. She had the same steady pace, didn’t accelerate or slow down. Lena threw a fist in the air and cheered loudly when she skied past. When Amélie turned her head towards her slightly, her stony expression unchanged, she froze, and the cheer died in her throat. Amélie was already over the hill when Lena remembered to take her hand down.  
  
Lena looked around to see if anyone noticed. _Great job, Lena_ , she thought. Her plan not to make a fool of herself had been going so well, too.  
  
Backing down wasn’t her thing, though, so she stuck around. The grandstands were close to the shooting range, and even if Lena didn’t have a particularly good vantage point, the big screens showed everything exciting. Just when Lena brought her mug to her lips, Amélie glided into the shooting range and took her rifle off her shoulders with smooth, practiced movements, chambered a round.  
  
Lena held her breath.  
  
Amélie _bloody smirked into the camera_ before she looked down her scope and fired.  
  
Lena almost forgot to hold her mug upright.  
  
Of course, Amélie hit the shot — and all four that followed. After she flipped her glasses back down, she almost nonchalantly picked up speed again. It looked deceptively slow, but Lena couldn’t take her eyes off her.  
  
When Amélie approached Lena’s spot again, Lena found herself getting nervous. Would she get glared at again?  
  
She gave a thumbs up and grinned, hoped her nervousness didn’t show.  
  
Amélie raised an eyebrow at her, and then she was gone.  
  
By the time Lena remembered about her hot chocolate, it couldn’t be called hot anymore. Sadly, Amélie hadn’t made it onto the podium, and when Lena made her way to the press area, she was nowhere to be found either.  
  
Which was a shame, because Lena was itching to talk to her.

 

* * *

 

 

Only moments remained until the starting gate flipped down. Lena rocked back and forth on her snowboard, made sure she wouldn’t get caught on anything. The other five racers next to her let out yells to pump themselves up, but Lena just looked down the course, visualized the line she would take. This was her world now.  
  
The gates opened, and Lena pushed herself onto the snow. Faster and faster the flags on the side of the course whizzed past her as she approached the first kicker. Hunkering down on her board, she prepared to be launched into the air. From the corner of her eye, she caught one of her opponents accelerating past, until the ramp slowed her down.  
  
Lena’s legs sucked up the bump, and she aimed the nose of the board down slightly to minimize the speed loss on the landing. Before she even touched down, she already had to plan her line for the cambered turn that followed and avoid colliding with any of the other riders. She touched down and turned hard to the right, cutting to the inside of the turn and blocking off one of her opponents. Not even two meters in front of her, a large Russian woman kicked up a plume of snow with her board. She’d be hard to get past.  
  
The Russian slowed down in the turn considerably more, so Lena picked up speed and carried it through the drop that followed. It wasn’t enough to overtake the Russian, though, and Lena didn’t want to risk crashing.  
  
Another cambered turn, this time 180° to the left, and this time Lena couldn’t take the inside line. A muffled yelp behind her  — one of her opponents crashed. Meanwhile, the Russian hit the first hump of a stretch of rollers, didn’t double over them.  
  
Lena saw an opportunity. She leant forwards and hunkered down again, and thrust her legs down at the lip of the first hump. She had to balance with her arms in the air, but she passed the Russian and landed the jump. She couldn’t celebrate much though, because there was a big jump coming up. The board had to be straight, a crooked landing could hurt — and she was airborne.  
  
The grandstands stretched out below her, and the roar of the spectators reached her ears. She pulled her knees up to her chest, lifted the foot in front up slightly and landed, and before she knew it, she finished first in an Olympic quarterfinal. Covering her mouth with her gloved hands, she screamed her joy out into the world before she remembered she had to slow down. Her board kicked up a wave of powder and she landed on her butt, but she was in the semi-final.  
  
She just laid on her back in the snow for a moment, staring up into the blue sky. It all felt like a dream. Who would’ve thought she’d get this far?  
  
A bulky figure blocked out a good portion of blue and extended a hand down towards her. Lena grabbed it and pulled herself up.  
  
“Good race, friend,” the Russian said in a deep, heavily accented voice. “Was a lot of fun! Congratulations!”  
  
“Thank you! You’re a great rider!” Lena laughed, took her helmet off, ran a hand through her hair. “I just can’t believe it all yet, ya know?”  
  
The Russian — her name tag read Aleksandra Zaryanova — let out an amused huff. “You still have races to win.”  
  
“True, true,” Lena said. “Hey, did you catch who crashed? She okay?” She looked around for the woman in the red bib who was still missing from the group in the finish area.  
  
“No, but — look, here she comes!” Aleksandra said and pointed up the course.  
  
After she landed the jump, the woman swerved down the final slope, before she came to a standstill and pat the snow off of her suit. Lena undid the bindings on her snowboard, picked it up and walked over to her.  
  
“Hey, are you okay?” she asked.  
  
The other woman spread out her arms and shrugged. “Seems like it. Bummer I missed out on the race though.”  
  
“No kidding!” Lena peered towards the gate that lead towards the press area. “Not looking forward to that bit, gotta tell ya.”  
  
“Ugh, yeah. Well, time to explain to them how crashing in snowboard cross isn’t a big deal for half an hour…”

  
  
They slowly walked towards the frenzy of flashing cameras. Lena let her gaze sweep across the grandstands to see if she recognized anyone. It wasn’t like she had any family that could wait for her, but you never knew. Just when she was about to give up, she found Amélie.  
  
She had swapped her bright pink ski suit for a long black coat, and her braided ponytail was draped over her shoulder. The half-smile she gave Lena along that meaningful look made Lena’s thoughts race, and before Lena could call out to her, she was already gone.  
  
After the journalists had finished their questions, Lena asked some of them if they’d seen Amélie, but they all shrugged and shook their heads. It was enough to drive her to despair. Nobody could tell Lena where to find her, nobody had seen her either. Just how elusive was this lady?

 

* * *

 

Lena didn’t make it to the finals. Part of her had known she wouldn’t make it, and she enjoyed participating nonetheless, but there was still some disappointment. More because she didn’t get to compete anymore than because she didn’t get a medal, she didn’t care much for medals. She knew she was a good rider, she wouldn’t be here if she wasn’t. Taking part in it all was the whole spirit behind it, wasn’t it?  
  
There were still good races to watch, and in the snowboard cross final, a Swede eventually won in a spectacular photo finish. Lena was happy for her. Still, she would rather have been on the course than in the grandstands. A lot of her teammates had already started the journey home because they were knocked out of the competition early. Going for a ride down the slopes in the area was borderline impossible with the number of tourists that flocked to the games, too. To top it all off, she still didn’t get a chance to talk to Amélie. The biathlon races were long over, and Lena was beginning to think the Frenchwoman had already gone home.  
  
The closing ceremony would be held tomorrow. Lena definitely wanted to stick around for that. Even though she hadn’t won any medals, it was the experience of a lifetime and she intended to see a lot of it. Of the athletes that were still around, many would spend the last few nights partying in the popular clubs in town. Usually, Lena would be all over the chance to get to party with like-minded people from all over the world, but when was she ever in Canada? If she was already here, she might as well get a taste for the local culture.

  
She paid the cab driver and flipped her hood up before she stepped out of the car and into the rain. The sun had gone down hours ago, but the fairy lights from the Starbucks next to her destination illuminated the parking lot brightly. It was an expensive sushi restaurant that she’d found recommendations for online. The air smelled like fresh pine, crisp and clear, but it was still windy and wet out, so Lena hurried inside.  
  
As soon as the door closed behind her with a soft click, a waitress in a pristine white shirt and a black, floor-length apron stopped in front of her. “Good evening, welcome to Shimada’s, ma’am. Do you have a reservation?”  
  
“Hi!” Lena glanced past the waitress into the restaurants and bit her lower lip at the sight of occupied tables. “Afraid not, no... Is there nothing available?”  
  
The waitress gave a sympathetic smile. “I’m terribly sorry, but this is a very busy time for us. We can make a reservation for another evening— “  
  
A deep, feminine voice cut the waitress off. “She is with me.”  
  
Lena blinked, and the waitress whipped around to where the voice came from.  
  
Seated in one of the restaurant’s plain, gray chairs, there was Amélie Lacroix in a burgundy turtleneck sweater, leant back with a curious half-smile on her lips. Lena really hoped she didn’t gape at her, because of all the opportunities to make a fool of herself, _now_ would be the worst.  
  
The waitress looked back and forth between them. There was still a seat at the small table Amélie had chosen. “Well, that solves that,” she said. “Before you take a seat, may I take your jacket, ma’am?”  
  
It took Lena a moment to get back in gear. “Sure!”  
  
“My colleague will be around with a menu shortly.” With that, the waitress was gone.  
  


Lena walked up to Amélie’s table, and couldn’t contain her grin. “Hey! Been looking all over the place for you,” she said.  
  
“Well, I did not want to be found.” Amélie gave her an amused smirk. “But, here you are, so, have a seat. I certainly don’t mind good company — especially not when it’s cute.”  
  
_She’s something else!_ Lena rubbed the back of her head with one hand. “Thanks, uh, for the seat and the compliment. I’m glad I decided to check this place out. Hey— did you order already?”  
  
Scooting closer to the table, Amélie picked up her glass of white wine and took a sip, maintaining eye contact with heavy lids. “I didn’t.” She swirled the wine around in the glass. “Just the wine. Did you have something specific in mind?.”  
  
“Nah, I’m gonna get whatever tickles my fancy on the menu. I remember the names of things I like, but I don’t go to Japanese places all that often.”  
  
Fancy restaurants, in general, made Lena feel like a fish out of water. People were always so restrained and painfully appropriate there. Lena couldn’t do it. She could dress up fancy if she wanted, sure, but somehow, being expected to sit still made her antsy.

  
  
Soon enough, another waitress came by with a singular menu. When she saw Lena at the table, her eyes went wide and she gave a little bow. “I’m terribly sorry, I’ll fetch another one right away,” she said.  
  
“No worries, we’ll manage!” Lena looked at Amélie and smiled. “Right, love?”  
  
She wasn’t sure how to interpret that little upward twitch of the corners of Amélie’s mouth.  
  
The waitress threw a quick look over her shoulder, and a droplet of sweat sat on her forehead. “Again, I’m sorry, it’s a very busy evening. What would madame like to drink?”  
  
“Uh, I’d like the sencha please, and, um — what’d be your pick for a mild sake that doesn’t give my wallet a heart attack?”  
  
Canting her head slightly, the waitress was just about to say something when Amélie interjected. “ _Non_ , give her one of the better ones.”  
  
“No, no — you don’t have to!” Suddenly, Lena couldn’t make eye contact anymore and her cheeks got hot.  
  
Amélie only shook her head. “You are not drinking lesser alcohol if I can prevent it.”  
  
The meticulously set table arrangement gave her something to focus her restless eyes on.  
  
With a tap on a tablet, the waitress nodded. “Was there anything else?” When both Lena and Amélie shook their heads, she gave a nod. “I’ll be back shortly.”  
  
Seconds of silence stretched out like chewing gum, and Lena shifted in her seat. “I feel like I’m taking advantage of you,” she mumbled, shyly looking up at Amélie. “Somehow.”  
  
That earned her a raised eyebrow.  
  
“I- I mean, we barely know each other, and now I’m sitting at your table, and you’re buying me expensive drinks.”  
  
Amélie let out a huff. “That is how these things go usually, no?”  
  
_Bloody hell._ All Lena came here to do was enjoying some nice food, but here she was, twisted around Amélie’s little finger. And if she was honest with herself, that wasn’t a bad place to be.  
  
“Is that what this is?” Lena cursed inwardly when her voice cracked slightly.  
  
Amélie’s eyebrows drew together and she bit her lower lip. “Shouldn’t it?”  
  
“I, uh, that’s— “ Lena took a deep breath. “No, that’s cool. It’s just — this evening is taking turns, I swear.”  _Sigh_. “Anyways, what do you want to eat?”  
  
Amélie chuckled and raised an eyebrow. “I’m glad,  _chérie_.” After she gave the menu a quick scan, Amélie handed it to Lena. “I think I’ll take the chef’s selection of nigiri sushi. They’re famous for it, after all.”  
  
Looking at the selection of dishes offered, Lena was grateful for the descriptions in English underneath their names. Sushi was nice, but it wasn’t really what Lena was looking for. “This grilled eel rice bowl sounds nice. Just wish I knew how to pronounce its actual name. D’you think we’ll get a soup before?”

  
  
Amélie had just ordered her second glass of wine and her plate was almost empty when her brows drew together and she tilted her head to one side. “I am curious, Lena. You are a snowboarder. Why did you cheer for me at the race?”  
  
“You’re only at the Olympics so often, right? So I thought I’d check things out, so I went to see biathlon, and nobody cheered for you, so…” Lena shrugged, but Amélie just continued looking at her expectantly.  
  
It was probably not the sake’s fault that Lena’s cheeks heated up, but she wanted to blame it on that anyway. Why was this so hard to admit?  
  
“The announcer talked about you like you were some sort of mythical creature.” She pursed her lips to the side. “Looking back, that’s not entirely inaccurate, is it?” A small sigh escaped her lips, and she quietly added, “You’re really pretty, too.”  
  
For the first time this evening, Amélie’s cheeks reddened and a shy smile spread across her face, and Lena melted. She forgot the food, the fancy restaurant, the food, the Olympics — all she could think about was Amélie and her smile.  
  
Amélie reached over the table and brushed across Lena’s fingers with her own. “Thank you, _chérie_.”  
  
Without even thinking about it, Lena caught Amélie’s hand, wriggled her finger between Amélie’s. “What about you? Why’d you look for me? I saw you on the grandstands.”  
  
“I… I thought it was cute how you almost dropped your mug.” The look Amélie had on her face was almost bashful if that was at all possible for her. “And I wanted to see what you do. But then I couldn’t find you, which was a shame because I think you’re cute.”  
  
“Did we actually bloody miss each other? Because I couldn’t, either.”  
  
They looked into each other’s eyes for a moment before they started giggling.  
  
“Never been so glad I didn’t go to the club,” Lena said.  
  
Amélie gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “I have to say I agree with that, because if you did, I probably would have had to contact you on Twitter, and the press would have been all over that if they found out.”  
  
Lena let out a huff. “Gosh, my Twitter… Hey, I was wondering — why do you avoid the press so much? I mean, their questions are pretty annoying and all, but they’re still useful for putting yourself out there.”  
  
“I don’t really want to be ‘out there’ though.” Amélie took another sip of wine. “I am in it for the competition, not so much for the recognition, if that makes sense.”  
  
“You want to prove to yourself that you’re good.” Lena gave a low whistle. “That’s a bit of a time investment to not go for gold.”  
  
“Which is part of the reason why I don’t really want that much publicity.” Turning the glass of wine in her hand, Amélie’s gaze dropped. “I do not think people would be too thrilled to hear they have been beaten by someone who does not even want to win.”  
  
Lena nodded. “There’d probably be some who would take it as a challenge, but yeah…”  
  
“I can see the headlines. ‘Rich Frenchwoman Participates In Winter Olympics To Kill Time.’” With a groan, Amélie put her glass down. “Before you tell me what you do for a living, do you want to order desserts?”  
  
“Sure! I wonder if they have matcha ice cream.”

  
The restaurant slowly emptied, and so did Lena’s tea. It was pitch black outside by the time Lena remembered there’d be a ceremony on the next day. And after that was done, there were only a few days left until Christmas. The Olympics had come and gone in a flash, much like this evening. This could go on for a while, as far as Lena was concerned, but the restaurant staff wanted to go home sometime, too.  
  
Lena got her phone out. “Do you want to exchange numbers? I had fun tonight, and I’d kinda like to talk to you more,” she said, surprised she didn’t stumble over her own words.  
  
“’Had’?” Amélie smirked. “It’s only half past nine, _chérie._ ”  
  
While Lena was still busy processing that, Amélie took the phone from Lena’s hand and entered her contact info, before she gave a satisfied hum and handed it back.  
  
Lena blinked.  
  
In the name field of the contact, it said: ‘Amélie has a crush on me <3’  
  
If there had been anything Lena had wanted to say before, she couldn’t remember anymore. How was this real?  
  
Of course, Amélie just waved a waitress over as if nothing happened. And then she just paid the entire bill, while Lena was still too stunned to do anything about it.  
  
“What just happened?”  
  
“I gave you my number and treated you to a nice meal.” That smug little smirk was still on Amélie’s lips.  
  
“But— “ Lena still hadn’t fully grasped that she didn’t need to spend the rest of her travel budget.  
  
“But what? Look, there are our coats.” And with that, Amélie got up.  
  
She was tall. And without the ski suit and in a more flattering outfit, Amélie had a striking figure.  
  
It was like someone had flipped a switch in Lena’s brain, one of those big ones that have a handle and close with a deep, satisfying sound. Amélie was probably not the only one around with a crush.  
  
Soon, they ran across the parking lot in the pouring rain, towards the projecting roof that surrounded the neighboring Starbucks. Now sheltered from the elements, Amélie looked down the road before she got her phone out.  
  
“I’ll call us a taxi,” she said. “Do you want to come to my house?”  
  
“You live here?”  
  
A nod.  
  
“Uh, sure!” Lena nervously scratched her head. “Probably more peace and quiet than the Olympic village.”  
  
“Mhm.”  
  
After the call was done, Amélie wordlessly held her hand out, and Lena took it into her own, scooted closer. They stood like that for a while. Neither of them spoke a word. Lena wondered how it must’ve looked from inside that Starbucks — two women who couldn’t look more different, holding hands in the rain. She let her eyes wander. Nobody was on the road anymore, save for a few lonely cars. Distorted by the falling raindrops, the reflections of the fairy lights danced in the puddles on the street, throwing patterns against the walls.  
  
And someone hung a mistletoe under the roof, a bit down the sidewalk.  
  
Lena threw a look at Amélie.  
  
“I am not going to kiss you under that mistletoe, _chérie_.”  
  
Lena didn’t give herself much time to think. “How about right here, then?”  
  
In one swift motion, Amélie stepped in front of Lena, put a hand on the nape of her neck and leant down.  
  
Her lips were so incredibly soft and warm. Lena melted for a second time that night, melted into her touch. The first kiss was tender, almost shy, but there was a mutual, nonverbal understanding about what the next one should be.  
  
It took Lena’s breath away, and she gently bit Amélie’s bottom lip when they separated.  
  
The third one was softer again, but longer, and Amélie gave a low hum, brushed across the stubble on the side of Lena’s head.  
  
They stayed close together like that in silence, peppered with kisses.  
  
Eventually, Lena spoke up. “That… that was a good idea.”  
  
Amélie planted a kiss on Lena’s forehead. “Perhaps there will be more good ideas tonight,” she said quietly.

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas, Aka!
> 
> When I saw that skin, I knew I had to write about it. So now this exists.


End file.
